


The Gift of Advice

by Rahenna



Series: Ace of Hearts [42]
Category: Gakuen Heaven 2 ~Double Scramble~
Genre: Emotional Support, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Male Friendship, Secret Relationship, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14105199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahenna/pseuds/Rahenna
Summary: Sakaki knows he can't keep leaning on Yuki for support, and seeks advice from Dr. Matsuoka.





	The Gift of Advice

**Author's Note:**

> Contains spoilers for Gakuen Heaven 2. If you intend to play the game yourself, reading this may ruin your fun a bit. :)
> 
> If you want to know more about the Gakuen Heaven series, please visit my fansite for game translations and summaries:  
> [welcome to Heaven](http://heaven.neo-romance.net/)

**Thursday, June 14, 2018**

I paused, arm raised to knock on the nurse's office door, resolve wavering as a voice in my mind warned: _Asking for help is a sign of weakness._

I knew that voice. It masqueraded as my own inner thoughts, whispering its disapproval any time I dared to consider something that might be seen as improper or undignified. It was my father's voice, warning me that it was unseemly for a man to show too much emotion. That our family had an image to uphold, that reputation was everything, and god help you if the media got wind of anything that held even the faintest whiff of scandal.

Another voice, far too bright and cheerful to ever be mistaken for my own, countered: _If you can't do it alone, you should ask your friends for help! I'm sure everyone would be happy to help you!_

Asahina. He never hesitated to ask for help, and his friends never hesitated to deliver it. His natural drive to involve others and reach out when he felt overwhelmed was his greatest strength. There was no shred of weakness in him. Instead, his willingness to admit his faults and draw others in to balance his weak points made him unbreakable. He was filled with confidence and never fell into the trap of placing his pride above practicality.

In other words, a sixteen year old boy had his shit together, and I didn't.

 _Just do it._ I took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door before the surge of determination could fade away.

"Just a moment," the doctor's voice called out. For an instant, the only thought in my head was that there was still time to dash away and pretend I hadn't been the one knocking. Before that cowardly urge could take hold, the door opened and my chance was gone.

Dr. Matsuoka blinked at me, a rare look of surprise flashing across his features before his usual calm expression returned. "Oh, Professor Sakaki. I wasn't expecting you." He frowned. "Are you feeling alright? You don't look so good."

I considered denying it, but the whole point of this visit was to have an honest talk with someone levelheaded, so I shook my head. "I don't feel so good. I'm not sick, I need to talk to you."

His eyebrows rose a little, and he stepped back, motioning for me to enter. The moment the door was shut behind us, he leaned in to ask, "Did something happen with Asahina-kun?"

"What?" It was my turn to be surprised, but of course he would assume the worst. "No, it's not. Everything's fine with Asahina. Something came up with my family."

"Are they pressuring you again? Here, come sit down, I'll pour you some tea and you can tell me all about it."

I nodded and let him lead me to the semi-private nook at the back of his office, not bothering to protest that I wasn't much of a tea drinker. He returned a minute later with a pair of mugs and set them both on the small table before settling into his seat. I pulled the mug close, drawing a tiny bit of comfort from the warmth against my hands.

And then the scent hit me, summoning a tangled rush of emotion and memories so vague they were barely more than impressions. My throat tightened. "Chamomile was my uncle's favorite..."

"Your uncle?" The doctor's brows drew together. "You mean Sonoda-kun's stepfather?"

I hesitated for a moment, the cowardly voice in the back of my mind warning that I was about to pass the point of no return. I did my best to ignore it as I replied, "No. My mother's youngest brother. He... died unexpectedly. The funeral is this weekend."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Were you two close?"

I sighed. "Yes and no. I haven't really spoken to anyone on either side of my family recently, so it would be a lie to say we were close. But out of all my relatives, he was the one who supported me most. I wouldn't say he completely understood me, but he tried, and he accepted me." 

I stared down into the barely rippling surface of the tea, remembering the pivotal conversation. My uncle's support had been unexpected; as a kid, my impressions of him had been of a stern man with no tolerance for anything outside of expectations. Maybe he'd been moved by my determination to follow my own path. Or maybe he was the type who changed his mind upon learning that someone he already knew was one of the 'others' that he was supposed to hate.

_"Your father's been complaining that you keep putting off meeting the daughters of his business associates. Is it that you find structured dating distasteful? Or..." He'd paused for a moment, trying to find a question that was suitably vague. "Are you simply not interested in women right now?"_

For some reason, I'd felt that it would be safe to reveal the truth. He hadn't really understood, but he'd listened without passing judgement, quietly accepting my response. And then:

_"I hope you find someone who's right for you."_

My throat tightened as the emotions I'd felt at the time welled up: surprise and confusion followed by a deep, calming relief. It was like all the tension had drained from the room in an instant, all my nervousness melting away like late-season snow. It was the first time I'd felt safe with someone aside from a close personal friend.

A quiet voice cut through my thoughts. "You regret not spending more time with him."

I nodded without looking up. "That's why I feel like I need to be there this weekend."

Dr. Matsuoka's chair creaked as he leaned a little closer. "I'm sensing a 'but' here."

Normally, his confidence in his interpretation of other people's thoughts and feelings was irritating, but all I felt was a mild stirring of weariness. "Of course there's a 'but.' Going to the funeral means facing my entire family all at once. I haven't spoken to my parents in over a year, and the last time I saw my brother was when he got voted off the board. And I don't think I've seen any of my other relatives since graduating from university. Everyone's going to be full of complaints."

"That sounds unpleasant." He paused to take a sip of tea, which prompted me to do the same. A bitter smile came to my lips; I really didn't care for the flavor of chamomile.

"It's a bit more than merely unpleasant. All those stuffy old people who can't be bothered to hide their disapproval of my choices, and all the cousins around my age who can't stop trying to one up each other with tales of their oh-so-important lives as company executives." I gripped the mug, staring down at my reflection in the pale liquid. I looked like hell. "It's not like any of them had to put in an honest amount of work to earn those positions. It's no different from a rich kid bragging about the fancy car daddy gave him as a birthday present."

"Professor Sakaki, I know you're proud of the work you do as a teacher, and that you understand how exceptional you are in your position. The value and results of that dedication aren't diminished by the opinions of others."

I waved my hand dismissively. "I _know_ that. But any bit of logic or confidence flies out the window when dealing with people like my family. Sure, the company makes noise about improving people's lives and providing quality products, and I'm sure the worker bees are sincere about all that, but all my family cares about is profit and status. Getting to the top is all that matters."

"In other words, you can't reason with them. There's no way to convince anyone that your career and goals are worthwhile."

"Exactly."

"Hm." Dr. Matsuoka went quiet, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. I was used to his long pauses after months of weekly meetings, so I simply waited for him to collect his thoughts. It wasn't long before he looked up again and asked, "So tell me, Professor Sakaki, what would be the absolute worst thing that would happen to you if you didn't attend the funeral?"

I was stunned into silence for a moment. Did he really think that was a reasonable solution? "I'd never hear the end of it. I'm used to being talked about both behind my back and directly to my face, and I can usually ignore it because I'm confident in my choices. I'm right and they're wrong, it's simple. But this isn't simple. I don't want to deal with my family's nonsense, but I also want to honor my uncle. I put off spending time with him until it was too late, I can't pass up my final chance to show my appreciation for his kindness."

The doctor fell silent again, though I could tell from his body language that he was debating something with himself, arms folded over his chest and expression distant. Probably thinking of the best way to offer cryptic therapist advice as usual. I tried not to sigh. What exactly had I been expecting from this conversation anyway? Answers? Dr. Matsuoka was full of nothing but questions.

So naturally I was shocked by the directness of his next statement.

"I know it annoys you that I always try to steer everyone to their own answers. Learning to find your own decisions is an important skill. However, this is a critical event in your life, so I'm going to cheat a little and tell you exactly what to do this time." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and stared directly into my eyes. It was unnerving to be fixated upon like that after months of brief glances and reserved expressions that were nearly impossible to interpret. 

I couldn't look away as his lips moved, forming the last words I'd expected to hear: "Do _not_ go to the funeral. There's nothing in it for you."

I should have felt relief at his blunt and unembellished answer. I should have been thrilled to receive honest, unambiguous advice from a reliable outside observer. Instead, I found myself protesting almost reflexively, "But my uncle would be disappointed."

_What on earth am I doing, arguing with the man who's telling me exactly what I'd hoped to hear?_

He must have sensed the contradiction in my words, frowning slightly before responding, "Please forgive me for saying something so rude, but your uncle is dead. He can't be disappointed." 

I wasn't really the type to believe in an afterlife or the lingering spirits of generations of departed ancestors, but that sort of thing was so ingrained that it was almost shocking to hear someone deny it. "That's awfully blunt."

He lowered his eyes, taking a moment to adjust his glasses. "I know. I'm sorry, I went too far."

"No, you're right. My uncle is gone and it's impossible to please or disappoint him. That's the truth, whether I like it or not."

We were silent for a few awkward moments before the doctor spoke again. "Maybe this is rude too, but you seem to value directness, so I'll just say it. I'm afraid you're going to give in out of a sense of guilt or obligation, maybe not now, but if your family starts pressuring you. You need to protect yourself and to respect the boundaries you set when you cut ties. After all, if you don't respect them, how can you expect others to do the same?"

"They won't respect them no matter what I do." I knew my protest was nothing more than a weak excuse, a distraction from the truth of his words. Why was I still arguing? _Habit, maybe. No matter how much has changed in this past year, I'm still afraid of them. I'm still tempted to give in, hoping that this disaster of a relationship can be repaired._

"Maybe not, but as far as I can tell, you've been enforcing those boundaries well enough. A fence doesn't ask trespassers their permission to keep them out, right? It simply does its job."

I shrugged. "I guess."

"I'm not saying you need to avoid your family forever, but the fact that you're so worried about this event that you voluntarily came to speak to me tells me that you're not ready to face them just yet."

A million protests flashed across my mind - _how will I know when I'm ready, it's childish to keep avoiding them like this, it's been almost a year already_. Was it really wrong to hope that my family could be whole again? Or was I just as delusional as Sonoda had been?

Dr. Matsuoka must have sensed that I was still conflicted, because he pressed on. "When core relationships are broken in some way, it takes time to heal. Familial relationships can be the most difficult because of how easily we're influenced by them, especially parents. If your gut is telling you that it's not the right time to reach out, listen to it. And especially when it comes to an event like this, where emotions will already be running high."

I sighed. "I know you're right. Every time I think about going, my mind feels dull and empty in exactly the same way it always has when it comes to my family. Whether I go or not, their treatment and opinion of me will be the same." A humorless smile came to my lips. "And if I don't go, I don't have to witness anyone talking about how I'm stubborn and spoiled and a disgrace."

"That's right. Try to hold on to that feeling, because I'm sure they'll try to guilt and pressure you into attending. If you'll forgive the trite statement, no is a complete sentence. And if that's too much, remember that you're not obligated to give any answer at all."

"That's true," I murmured, not feeling that it was true at all. _I still have a lot of work to do._

"One more thing," Dr. Matsuoka began.

I cut him off with a sigh. "You're not done yet?"

"Hey, you came here to talk to me, not the other way around." But he was smiling as he said it. "It's about Asahina-kun."

"That again? I definitely didn't come here to discuss my relationship with Asahina."

"I know. But I have the feeling Asahina-kun wants you to make up with your family. Have you already discussed this situation with him? What did he say?"

"Of course I've already discussed this with Asahina." The doctor definitely didn't need to know that my 'discussion' with Asahina had taken place while I was half-drunk, or that I'd begged him to stay with me overnight. "I could tell that he wanted to say something about using the opportunity to make up with my family or some other idealistic nonsense, but he was wise enough to bite his tongue."

"Mm. You may not want to hear this now, but he's probably right. Not now, of course. With time and distance, you might all be able to speak to each other again."

I fought the urge to grind my teeth. "Honestly, it's tiring to hear this sort of advice over and over from people who don't understand what it's like to have a family like mine."

"It's true that I can't fully understand, but I do have experience with helping other people who've been dealing with similar situations. I'm not saying it's easy or that it happens often, but if there's effort from both sides, relationships can be repaired."

"Well, there's the problem. Effort from _both_ sides. That will never happen." He didn't get it. Of course not. I wouldn't wish a strict and overbearing family on anyone, but the lack of understanding made it difficult to discuss without sounding overdramatic. Kasahara was the only other person who truly understood the dynamics of a broken family relationship. "Thinking about it only highlights how lucky these kids are, you know. I get tired of listening to the complaints about perfectly reasonable expectations their parents have, or grumbling about having to visit elderly relatives. It's a constant reminder that most people have decent families with only trivial faults, and I'm one of the few who won first prize in the garbage lottery."

"That's a unique way of putting it." His smile was for the metaphor, not the situation. "Well, have you ever considered that family isn't necessarily limited to blood relatives?"

I tried not to roll my eyes, though I wasn't sure if I succeeded. "Are you going to say something like 'friends are the family you choose' or some other nonsense?"

He spread his hands. "Am I wrong?"

I stared at him for a few moments before reluctantly murmuring that he wasn't.

"Except, Professor, as I've noted before, you seem to be a bit lacking in friendships. You've opened up quite a bit since last year, but you still seem to hold yourself apart from others."

I don't know why I felt the need to justify myself, but I protested anyway. "I've reconnected with my two closest friends from middle and high school. I'm participating in school events, tutoring students, mentoring Ito when I have time, and helping Kasahara manage his workload. And I'm here now, talking to you. What more do you want?"

He hesitated before speaking, or maybe he was just trying to find the right words. "I recognize and appreciate all of that. Still, I can't help feeling that you hold people at a distance. If I had to guess, Asahina-kun is the only person you fully trust."

I snorted. "It's a bit hard to trust anyone other than Asahina when my entire life could be ruined if anyone else knew about him."

"There's some truth to that, I won't deny it, but it's possible to share more of yourself with others while still keeping some things private." He rested his elbows on the table, pressing his fingertips together, and peered at me over his hands. "Is your reluctance to open up to others tied to something deeper? Perhaps you feel that it's useless to grow attached to anyone because you're still having trouble processing a past loss?"

My body reacted as quickly as my emotions, stomach knotting and heart rate picking up as a spike of dread and irritation stiffened my back. "That again? How many times have I told you to leave it alone?"

"I know." He ducked his head a little, as if in apology. "I'm not poking at your sore spot out of some perverse desire to watch you squirm. I know persisting in this harms our relationship. But I keep trying because my experience with others tells me that this is a real issue for you. You've avoided dealing with your emotions surrounding Nao-kun's death for over a year. That, more than anything, tells me that you desperately need to do it."

I wanted to be annoyed, to tell him off, but my heart wasn't in it. _Because you're right._ The dark ghost of neglected emotion had hovered at the edge of my mind for months, a lingering to-do that refused to disappear no matter how long it was ignored. Too many forgotten feelings were wrapped up in that cloud for it to dissipate on its own, and tendrils of emotion, both positive and negative, could come to the forefront at any time to disrupt my day. It had stopped for a while after cutting ties with my family and accepting Asahina's affection, but I could feel the storm gathering again, summoned by the loss of my uncle.

I stared at a spot on the wall, eyes narrowing. "I don't feel like dealing with it." In that moment, I sounded exactly like a kid whining about homework.

"I know," the doctor repeated, his tone sincere instead of patronizing. "I'm not asking you to discuss it with me or to handle it right this second. I only want to urge you to take an honest look at yourself, to try and unpack those emotions."

"You sound exactly like a therapist."

"Well, you know..."

I snorted, amused. "If the shoe fits, right?"

He shrugged, the familiar cryptic smile on his lips. "I am what I am." He got serious again. "But I want you to focus on the funeral first. Splitting your mental energy between two major problems won't help you make progress on either. So I'm asking you - not as a doctor or a therapist, but as a friend who is genuinely concerned - to promise me that you'll remember our conversation when you're tempted to give in to your family's demands and go."

"As a friend, hm?" I raised an eyebrow. 

I swear he looked somewhat embarrassed. "Well, we've been talking for a while. I feel that our relationship has progressed a bit beyond merely coworkers."

"Really? Friendship is a two way street. As I recall, I'm the one who's been talking about myself all the time, while you're still as reluctant as ever."

Dr. Matsuoka made a bit of a face, nodding slowly, as if to himself. "It's true. You're right. I'm over here giving advice and not following any of it myself."

"So what makes you so secretive? Some sort of tragic past? Too deep in the closet?"

For once, it was the doctor's turn to stare out the window and avoid eye contact. He folded his arms over his chest and heaved a sigh. I waited, knowing that he would eventually give in to the pressure of a long silence. "There was... an incident in my past that disrupted my trust in others. It was resolved a long time ago, and in the end, no one was really at fault. But I almost lost the most important person in the world to me."

"I assume you mean Dr. Yoshizumi?" I attempted to catch his eye, but he refused to look in my direction. 

No response, just a long pause.

"Well, it's a long story." He finally turned back toward me. "Professor Sakaki, why don't you come have dinner with us this weekend? Not just me and Hiroya, but Professor Ito and Kazuki-kun too."

"Ito and Suzubishi? I'd rather not."

He sighed. "Look, you said you wanted me to be more open. It'll be easier to explain things if everyone who was involved in that incident gets together."

I raised an eyebrow. That was an odd bunch of unrelated people. "Is that so?"

Dr. Matsuoka ignored my comment and plowed ahead. Unusual for him, which meant that there was an interesting story behind his avoidance. "Anyway, you're far too hard on Professor Ito. He practically idolizes you. I know he's been asking you to join him for lunch or coffee. It's not just because he's hoping that you'll mentor him, he's genuinely interested in becoming friends."

Ah, yes, Ito. He'd been paired up with me again as my assistant homeroom teacher, taking the opportunity to ask me for advice on how to handle class problems and construct lessons. I didn't mind those sorts of questions, since he was serious about improving his skills. But. "I'm trusting you not to repeat this, but Ito grates on me a little. His confidence has improved since last year, but he still has moments that make me wonder if Suzubishi _did_ pull some strings to get him hired here."

"I don't think so, but even if he did, what does it matter? Professor Ito is doing a good job and the students enjoy his classes. I think you're only seeing the worst of him because he's nervous around you. He has a lot of admirable qualities, even if they tend to get buried under a bit of self-doubt. When it comes to his friends, he's just as determined and selfless as Asahina-kun. He'll do anything to help someone who's in need."

"You make it sound like he did something to personally help you."

His smile was so unexpectedly warm it made my heart skip a beat. "He did. If you want to know more about it, you should come over this weekend and hear the whole story."

"The funeral is this weekend," I protested.

Suddenly he didn't hesitate to stare me down. "But you're not going."

So this was how students felt when I refused to let them weasel out of doing their work. I tried not to squirm. "No, I'm not. But... I'll feel guilty about that. It's going to be a rough weekend."

"I see. But, if you'll excuse my bluntness again, I don't think wallowing in self-pity is going to help. And I object, on both a personal and professional level, to you turning to a sixteen year old boy as your sole source of emotional support. It's not healthy for you, and especially not for Asahina-kun. Besides, I think he'd be thrilled to learn that you plan to spend a few hours in the company of friends." He held up one hand to stop my objection. "Or co-workers and acquaintances, if that's how you see us. And that's fine. Let yourself be a little uncomfortable. Push yourself to participate instead of retreating to what's familiar. You lost your uncle and your family is unkind, but there are other people who would be happy to spend time with you, and who would sympathize with your situation. But you have to make the effort to let us in. Why not take a small step?"

No matter how much I wanted to refuse spending time with a group of relative strangers who were already good friends with each other, I couldn't object. The doctor was right; my reluctance to reach out to others meant that Asahina was my greatest support. And the second greatest was Kasahara. _I can't keep relying on them. Asahina needs room to grow, and I'm the one who should be supporting Kasahara, not the other way around._

"Alright." I hoped my smile didn't look as forced as it felt. "You're right. If I stick to my usual routine, I might be tempted to rush over to the funeral at the last minute. Hell, Asahina would probably encourage that."

"Yes, I'm sure he would. But I won't. I'll tie you to a chair if I have to."

"Oh, so it's _that_ kind of get-together? Sounds fun."

To my surprise, the doctor laughed. "Sorry, but you're not invited to that part."

"Hmph, that's rude."

"I never claimed to be good at sharing." He shrugged. "Anyway, I'll get things arranged for dinner and send you the details. Do you want me to send it as a meeting invite for your calendar?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Let me know if I need to bring anything."

He leaned forward in his chair, peering into my nearly full mug. "Well, it looks like you're not a fan of tea. We don't keep a lot of alcohol at home, so if there's something you're particularly fond of, you might want to bring that over to share."

Before I could respond, the bell rang, indicating that my free period was ending. "Already?" I pushed back my chair and stood. "Sorry, my next class starts in five minutes and I'll never hear the end of it from the kids if I'm late. Thank you for the advice."

"My pleasure." The doctor stood too. "I hope it was helpful. Now I'm really looking forward to the weekend. Oh, before you go, do you mind if I tell the others about your uncle? Not the details, of course, but I think it would be good to let everyone know that you're having a rough time."

"Well..." I ran my hand back through my hair. "I guess it's fine. But I don't want any weird sympathy from anyone. It's going to be awkward enough without getting pitied by someone like Ito."

"I'll warn everyone not to do that."

"Right. Thanks. I'll see you later, then."

With that, I rushed from the nurse's office without waiting for an answer. I hadn't expected the conversation to go on so long, so I'd left all of my class materials in my office - which was, of course, in the opposite direction from the classroom. I barely made it to the next class before the bell, which also meant that I had no time to dwell on the conversation or try to think of excuses for passing on the dinner gathering. By the time class ended, the invitation had already been sent.

_No weaseling out of it, I guess._

I hit the accept button before I could talk myself out of it.

~ end ~


End file.
